It's Not True
by Liam the lemming
Summary: Kurt and Dave's dinner with friends goes wrong when Dave's past is mentioned. What does it mean for the boys?


_**Story**: It's Not True  
**Author**: Liam the lemming  
**Beta**: captainlove (thanks again dude!)  
**Rating**: T (for language, pretty much)  
**Warnings**: Expletives, and only a vague mention of what Dave and Kurt might get up to in private ;)  
**Word count**: 5111  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
**Story summary**: Kurt and Dave's dinner with friends goes wrong when Dave's past is mentioned. What does it mean for the boys?_

_A/N: I know I said I couldn't promise you all a few one-shots in the PS universe... but I never said I **wouldn't** do 'em, right? ;)_

* * *

**Perfect Symmetry one-shot: It's Not True**

"...and that was it. Once I'd faced them down, they just abandoned their whole stance and left her be. Then, obviously, dates and awkward doorstep encounters ensued..."

Kurt and Dave were enjoying being regaled by Milo's recount of how he and Frances had found each other. They'd been friends ever since Kurt got to know Frances in his first year at NYADA and introduced them both to Milo - also studying at NYU, but based in the math disciplines. Occasionally, Milo and Dave's math-based banter had left Kurt wondering if they were making up half the things they were talking about.

Tonight, however, they were all about origins. "Lamest origin story ever, huh?" chuckled Milo, self-deprecatingly. "So how did you two get together?" he asked Kurt.

Kurt smiled fondly at the recollection of his memories of Dave's journey - from plain bullying, to lashing out over his sexuality, to finally - albeit reluctantly - accepting it, to befriending Kurt, through being outed and all the trauma that followed, to ditching Blaine and eventually dating Dave after a _lot_ of influence from their friends. "Well, relations between us weren't always so cordial," confessed Kurt.

"Really?" asked Frances, her curiosity piqued. "But you guys always seem so tight."

"Oh, it was a long, arduous journey," chuckled Kurt. "For a start, he used to be kind of a dick."

Dave's amiable smile abruptly disappeared. _Kurt, why are you bringing this up?_

"And we're talking about _this_ Dave? Seriously?" queried Milo incredulously. "One of the nicest guys I know used to be a dick?" Dave's mood recovered somewhat at Milo's compliment.

"_Used_ to be," emphasized Kurt. "You'd never know it now, but he actually used to bully me!" he added, chuckling at the absurdity of the notion.

Frances was floored at this revelation. "He used to be a _bully_? Oh my god, you used to _bully him?_" she blurted at Dave, her tone souring considerably as though hearing unwelcome news.

Kurt wasn't quite ready for Frances' reaction, and floundered slightly. "No, wait!" he urged. "That's all in the past! Like Milo said, he's nothing like that now!" Kurt's urgent support didn't help Dave much: unbeknownst to the other three, he was retreating into himself, and part of himself was fighting the urge to get up and storm out in anger at Kurt. _How could you bring this up about me? Why are you doing this to me?_

Frances, however, had the bit between her teeth. "No, you can't ever let yourself think that!" she retaliated. "They never change, Kurt. They don't _ever_ change."

Kurt was dumbfounded by Frances' sudden change in tone. "I'm sorry?" he asked, almost as an invitation for her to clarify a point he'd clearly misunderstood.

Except he hadn't. "I can't believe you'd even _speak_ to him," grunted Frances brusquely.

"Excuse me?!" spluttered Kurt, understanding to his alarm that Frances was, in fact, deadly serious.

"You can't just let bullies off the hook, they're _monsters!_" urged Frances heatedly. To Dave, this was like a punch to the guts. He could feel his anger rising against this unreasonable judgement of him, and somewhat against Kurt's witless revelation of his past for _whatever_ reason, but he refused to succumb to it.

He merely sat in silence, stewing over the whole thing.

Kurt, however, wasn't taking Frances' condemnation of Dave lying down. "Okay, who spiked Frankie's soda with acid?" he drawled, hoping to defuse the situation with a dash of snarky humor.

Frances, however, wasn't in a laughing mood. "Kurt, this isn't funny. We've let a _bully_ into our lives." She wasn't to know, but each assertion that Dave was still a bully was like a body blow against his conscience, reminding him exactly how he'd felt in the hospital bed when he'd awoken to see Kurt asleep nearby. The guilt and misery came back to haunt him.

_"...God, Kurt. It all hurts so much. Everything they do to me... and everything I did to you. All of it."_

Kurt didn't notice: he was too preoccupied with the rising sense of indignation at this affront to his wonderful boyfriend. "You _can't_ mean that," he demanded.

"How can I not?" rebuked Frances, clearly unwilling to concede her standpoint, glancing at Dave as though looking at him for too long might cause her injury. Milo, to his credit, was now slack-jawed in disbelief at the inexplicable escalation of Frances' alarm, and mortified at the way she was now talking to one guest about the other. Dave was already building a wall.

Kurt was appalled at Frances' attitude, and looking toward Dave briefly, only to see how wounded he was by the whole discussion - for he'd developed something of a knack to peering behind Dave's wall since they'd been together - only increased his ire. He decided getting out was the best thing for them both; the further away they were from _this_, the better. "Fine," he grunted. "If Dave isn't welcome here, then clearly I'm not either. Perhaps we should go," he muttered angrily.

"No! You can't leave with him! He should go!" blurted Frances, desperate to keep Kurt away from the person she'd now quite fixatedly labelled a bully. Dave was devastated at this fresh assault, his expression twisting at the injustice of it all as he fought his emotions down. Milo facepalmed in dismay... and Kurt was _livid._

"How fucking _dare _you?"

"I mean it, Kurt! He-"

"Shut up!" snapped Kurt furiously. "Just stop. Talking. And listen," he barked, refusing to give Frances one more second of his consideration. "You were totally _fine _with Dave before you knew about his history. And now because of a few missteps in his past, all of it suddenly gets invalidated? Bullshit!" he hollered, his pitch rising as his diatribe progressed.

"Kurt, you don't understand!" wailed Frances urgently.

"Oh my god, you're still not listening!" howled Kurt in enraged incomprehension. "I understand just fine, Frankie - enough to see that Dave isn't the problem here," he challenged, reining in his tone. He'd be damned if he was going to allow her to turn him into some shrieking loon. _She_ was the one in the wrong.

Milo felt powerless to intervene. He'd have words with Frances afterwards, but all he felt able to do was mouth a devastated "I'm so sorry" to Dave. Dave, for his part, looked sideways to Kurt, clearly wounded. _I'm not the one who brought this up,_ he thought bitterly. He was visibly retreating into himself, barely speaking.

Frances refused to surrender her argument. "But Kurt, he's dangerous!" she cried.

A stunned silence filled the room like dry ice. Milo turned to face her, agape with bewilderment; likewise, Kurt's jaw dropped at Frances' wildly inaccurate summation of Dave, borne of... of _what_, exactly? Kurt didn't particularly care: she'd said some _horrible_ things about Dave, and screw her. "Okay, now you can't be talking about Dave," he challenged, "because I _never_ feel safer than when I'm with him. I can't believe you're being such a judgmental bitch about this!" he snapped, no longer willing to give an inch for her feelings in the matter. "C'mon Dave, we're leaving," he sighed angrily, eager to get Dave out of the situation before Frances did him any more harm.

Frances backed away in horror at her perceived failure to save Kurt, and disavowed herself of any responsibility. "I can't be a part of this," she insisted. "I _won't_," she demanded, turning and heading into the bedroom, visibly upset. Milo was suddenly left with the miserable job of rebuilding bridges.

"I'm... jesus, guys, I'm so... _so_ fuckin' sorry about this," he gibbered helplessly. "I dunno where the hell that came from," he explained, just as bewildered as Kurt had been.

"Clearly I'm the problem," declared Dave bitterly, already on his feet and eager to leave, "if she thinks I'm such a _monster_."

Milo's resolve crystallized around his friend's self view. "C'mon, we both know that's bullshit," he replied. "Her issues aren't down to you, man. I'll be having this out with her, don't you worry." He paused to consider the shouting match that had taken place. "I can't believe she spazzed out like that," he drawled, still stunned. "Guys, I'm really sorry about this," he pleaded once again, his face a mask of contrition.

Kurt sighed miserably. "You can't take the fall for this, Milo," he replied assuringly. "I'm the one who brought it up. I just didn't think she'd freak out like that." He took a moment to consider her reaction. "Maybe it was a trigger," he mused, mostly to himself.

"Huh?" asked Milo, unfamiliar with the term.

"Maybe bullying's her hot button topic, and whenever she hears about it, she loses it," explained Kurt. He glanced toward the bedroom. "God knows she definitely lost it tonight," he sighed. Dave found no comfort from their musings: as far as he was concerned, Frances still considered him mean, dangerous - hell, maybe even _evil_.

The depth of Kurt's mistake suddenly hit him. If he hadn't brought up the topic... "Oh god, I should have considered that," he groaned. "It's such a non-issue for me it didn't even occur." He paused as he recalled the tale of how she'd met Milo. "And you said yourself that she was even being picked on when you both met. Oh god, of course, it all fits," he moaned miserably. "I wish I hadn't said anything, it's ruined the whole evening."

Dave exhaled, still struggling to contain his upset. "I guess you can't outrun your past, huh?" he grunted, making his way out into the corridor outside. Kurt knew instantly what Dave meant: Kurt had brought up _his_ past. Kurt had done this.

He'd done this to Dave.

He found himself fighting a lump in his throat. Milo could see how miserable he looked, and sought to reassure him. "Hey, what she said doesn't go for both of us, okay?" he insisted. "I don't hold his past against him. Fuck, I _can't_, even," he chuckled nervously. "I just can't picture him as a bully. Not possible."

The glowing commendation of Dave made the lump in Kurt's throat even harder to fight down. He nodded wordlessly, offering a weak smile as thanks for taking Dave's side. Milo could see more needed to be said, as he still felt the friendship was at risk. "Tell him I'll see him soon, okay?" he urged. "As far as I'm concerned, he's just the same guy as he was yesterday." He paused to consider the point. "Actually, he's a _better _guy," he concluded. "Knowing how he used to be, it just makes it all the more amazing how he is now."

Despite his resolve, a tear rolled down Kurt's cheek. "...That's exactly the point I wanted to make," he croaked desolately, torn between relief that Milo had understood, and devastation that Frances had lashed out with Dave ending up suffering so much.

And they still had the journey home to get through.

So much for a great night in with friends.

* * *

The journey home had been silent, and mostly unbearable. Dave didn't even look at Kurt for the entire journey. And the moment they'd arrived home, Dave made a beeline for the sofa and flopped down on it like a discarded plushie. His mood was so dark Kurt could almost see a black cloud hovering over him.

He hated seeing Dave like this, and hated himself for being the cause of it.

"What _exactly_ was your point back there, Kurt?" demanded Dave brusquely, twisting his head sharply to face Kurt by way of punctuation.

Kurt's stomach sank. He hoped the words he chose would make it right, make Dave understand _somehow_, but he held out little hope while Dave's mood was like this. "I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I just wanted them to share your journey. Junior-year Karofsky's a part of that," he explained.

Dave latched on to the name at once. "Jesus, Kurt!" he spat. "You're calling me _Karofsky_ now?!"

"No!" screeched Kurt, his teeth clenched in aggravation. "Not you, _him!_ I'm calling _him_ Karofsky, the old you that you moved beyond long ago!"

Dave wasn't buying it. "But is still sufficiently _me_, it seems," he retorted acidly, "that it's worthwhile dragging up now and then just in case I forget what a _bastard_ I used to be." The message from Dave was clear: _I don't want to revisit my past._

It was lost on Kurt, who was still upset and bewildered that his goal of the evening - make Milo and Frances adore him and, by extension, make him love himself more - had ended up with the polar opposite outcome. In his emotional state, he unwisely lashed out. "Well, I'm sorry I tried to demonstrate my pride in you. I was trying to show them how _amazing_ you were for coming through it all!" he hollered in anguish. He paused to gather his wits; it was a fruitless task. "God, we're back here _again_," he lamented. "Me trying to help you out or talk you up and you ending up pissed off about it."

Dave was blindsided by Kurt's intentions; they smacked of sheer idiocy. Bringing up Dave's past was going to make people _like_ him? He hated himself every time it crossed his mind. "My god, Kurt," he gasped in dismay. "You just couldn't have picked a worse way to do it. You _know_ how I feel about my past!" he challenged. "I hate knowing it ever even happened, much less being reminded of it, in front of _anyone_ else, by my fucking _boyfriend_ of all people." Even mentioning it felt like a betrayal, and he'd gone and done it in front of Milo?

"I didn't do it to be malicious, you _know_ that!" begged Kurt.

"Exactly!" shrugged Dave, stifling his anger but still clearly wounded. "How long until you end up doing it again?"

As at Milo's place, a cold unwelcoming silence filled the room. "Dave," entreated Kurt timidly, after a while, "what are you saying, here?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Dave let out a sigh. It felt like he'd been holding it in since leaving Milo's. "I'm saying... I'd like to sleep out here tonight," he muttered. "If I go in there, I'll just end up laying awake stewing over it all, and there's no point in me ruining your sleep too."

It was the last thing Kurt wanted. "If you do, it'll probably be ruined either way," he replied sadly.

"At least we won't be keeping each other awake," shrugged Dave. Kurt understood it was futile to argue because he recognized the situation: Dave needed time and space to calm down, as he'd had in the past. He made his way toward the bedroom, but turned toward Dave just before leaving him outside.

"I hate leaving you out here like this," he stated simply, the emotion clear in his tremulous voice.

Dave hated himself for choosing the sofa, but knew the alternative wouldn't help at all. "You know I calm down quicker when we're not in each other's faces," he responded, falling back on logic like a trusted friend. Kurt often admired that about him: right now, however, it pained him.

"Doesn't make it hurt less," he gulped, leaving Dave alone on the sofa.

Dave sat there, silently fuming at the whole situation - Kurt's mad bitch friend with the chip on her shoulder, Milo's shocking taste in women, Kurt's stupid, _stupid_ idea of bringing up his past - and, of course, his past itself. That was still the one thing that stung the most.

No - _stung_ wasn't quite the word. It was more like the resurgent ache of an old deep wound that never seemed to have healed right. Like there was shrapnel within. "Well played, Karofsky," he growled at his erstwhile alter ego. "Always fucking things up for me. Why won't you just fucking _die_ already?"

Like that was ever going to happen. He knew full well that Karofsky was as much a part of him as anything else, and would always be there, lingering in the background like an unwelcome guest who occasionally crossed his path to remind him of all his bad points.

He _hated_ Karofsky, and all he stood for.

* * *

Dave was on the sofa. This late, and he was on the sofa. Alone. Rachel hadn't expected to see that on her arrival home, and knew it wasn't a good sign.

"Hey Rach." He hadn't even begun to tire yet; his mind was spinning, regurgitating the events of the evening and sprinkling the occasional unhappy memory from his past into the mix.

Rachel decided to pursue the obvious line of inquiry. "You're up late," she stated plainly, as though seeking a point.

"Haven't settled into bed yet," shrugged Dave sadly, glancing down at the sofa.

Rachel's shoulders sagged. _Crap, not again._ "You're sleeping out here?" she asked in dismay. Dave nodded. "Talk to me," she insisted, hurrying over and sitting next to him. "Tell me what happened."

"The dinner we went to... kinda went south," he sighed.

Rachel gave him a look that demanded more. "C'mon, you can't leave me dangling on a _kinda_," she huffed. "I'm gonna need more than that, Dave."

Dave shrugged uncertainly and recapped the evening in brief. "Milo got to talking about how he and Frances got together, and then Kurt started on about how we got acquainted," he explained. "Like, first off," he clarified.

It took a moment for the penny to drop. "What, the... the bullying? At the start, before you two even became friends?" asked Rachel.

"Yeah. He even brought up 'junior year Karofsky'," bristled Dave. "He used _those words_, Rach."

Rachel's jaw sagged a little at the appellation. "Karofsky," she gasped. "Wow, there's a blast from the past."

"I really wish he'd just fucking _stay_ there," grunted Dave acrimoniously.

Rachel understood him well enough to know that much. "Of course you do. He's the _enemy_, Dave," she pointed out forcefully.

Once again, Dave took it as an affront - like she was calling _him_ Karofsky. Calling _him_ the enemy. After _all this time_. "Yeah, I hear that a lot, thanks," he growled bitterly through clenched teeth.

Rachel's eyes rolled skyward as though seeking to take flight. "I meant _your_ enemy," she disputed.

The notion toppled Dave's train of thought off its tracks like a cheap toy. "...what?" he blurted weakly.

Rachel saw her opportunity and dived in with her analysis. "He grew out of your inability to cope with your sexuality and your compulsion to fit in," she explained. "Until you _could_ deal, but by that point he already existed, always there at the back of your mind, this nagging voice. He's been hurting you ever since." She placed a hand on his shoulder, so caught up in her argument she didn't even think to take a moment to enjoy it. "He tried to kill you once, remember?"

"That was... that was _me_," countered Dave, slightly confused.

"And the voice screaming at you from inside?" challenged Rachel. "The one telling you how worthless you were, what a horrible person, what an asshole? Even though it wasn't true any more?" She moved closer and threw an arm around him. Once again, she was so focused on shoring up Dave's self-image that it didn't even register with her. "Dave, it hasn't been true for _years_ now," she continued. "At some point, you've got to stop listening to him. The only way to do that is to _own_ what you did and remind yourself you're a better person now, and that he has no hold over you."

She almost had him won over, but a shadow of doubt remained. "What if he's right?" he demanded.

Rachel blinked. It sounded like a particularly _illogical_ thing to come from Dave. " Then it's pretty weird Kurt would choose to be with you," she rebuked. "Even weirder I'd choose to share an apartment with you in the big city. And yet, here we are," she concluded simply, stretching out her arms to emphasize the presence of the three of them in the apartment.

Dave blinked a few times, the undeniable logic sinking in. "...I guess there's that," he replied slowly.

"Exactly. We didn't move in with _him_, we moved in with _you_," reiterated Rachel determinedly. "And _you're not him_, Dave."

Rachel's insistence that Karofsky no longer resembled Dave in any capacity helped a lot, as did her advice on how to stop the ghost of Karofsky from haunting him so much. "That actually helps," he nodded. "Remembering you and Kurt chose to stick with me... that's it. That proves that Karofsky's gone," he smiled.

"Precisely," beamed Rachel, relieved to see the message sinking in.

"Every time he starts to get to me... I'll just remember that," nodded Dave, suffused with gratitude.

Rachel smiled back at him. She suddenly noticed her arm across his shoulders. _Those_ shoulders, which were still in tantalizing shape. She decided to push her luck. "Do I get a hug for that?" she ventured.

Dave was feeling much more comfortable, and decided to give her what she asked for. "Sure," he grinned. " C'mere."

Rachel didn't need telling twice - she jumped into Dave's lap and wrapped her arms around him. "Oooh, this feels good," she hummed in delight.

The sudden movement took Dave completely unawares. He briefly sat there motionless, completely startled, before a wave of amusement took him. "This... no, this is _snuggling_," he giggled. "Rach, you're in my _lap_," he scolded her, albeit without much heat.

"Mmmmmm," replied Rachel, lost to the sheer pleasure of the moment, with far too _much_ heat.

Dave couldn't help but chuckle. "Jesus," he guffawed. "We _really_ need to find you a guy."

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Kurt had remained awake, and had listened in on the whole exchange. He now knew Dave was feeling much better about the whole thing, and only had an apology to worry about the following morning. Maybe, given the state of mind Dave had now adopted over Karofsky, not even that.

Either way, he knew he and Dave would now sleep better that night.

* * *

There was a hand on his face. _Maybe that's a good sign,_ mused Kurt as he slowly awoke.

It was. Dave's hand was cupped along his jawline, and Dave was smiling down at him, looking well rested and peaceful. It was a beautiful sight. "Remember last night you said you were really proud of me, and I was amazing?" he asked Kurt gently.

"I remember _screaming_ that at you," chuckled Kurt embarrassedly.

"Well, I think I'm ready to believe it," grinned Dave. "Rach and I talked it out last night, and she showed me how I'm nothing like him any more. You're here with me. So's she. That proves it."

"It does?"

"Yeah! Neither of you would have lived with _him_."

Kurt paused in contemplation. It was a pretty watertight argument. "Why didn't I think of that?" gasped Kurt, shaking his head in amazement that he didn't consider the point himself.

"You were too upset, probably," shrugged Dave. "You're, uh... you're okay now, right?" he asked uncertainly.

"You're here with your hand cupping my face, I'm _fine_," beamed Kurt.

"That's a relief, after last night," sighed Dave in relief. "So, uh... think you could tell me about how proud you are, and why I'm amazing?" he grinned cheekily.

"God, where to begin?" chuckled Kurt.

"Damned if I know," smiled Dave.

"Wait, remember when Rachel and I came and sang to you to prove you were a good guy?" recalled Kurt suddenly.

Dave paused in recollection. "Oh god, that time in the hospital!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know. Fixing everything with a song. How _New Directions_ of us!" chuckled Kurt.

"You're telling me," grinned Dave. "Still, it did kinda help."

Kurt smiled at the memory. It hadn't solved everything - it had only been a day since _the stupid thing,_ as they both now referred to it, and Dave still had a lot to get through - but it had helped. "Want another song?" he offered blithely.

Dave eyed Kurt hungrily. He'd missed being in Kurt's arms... among other places. "Nah," he replied huskily, his eyes dark with lust. "I can think of something better."

_You and me both, babe,_ smiled Kurt eagerly as their lips crashed against each other.

* * *

_Kurt and Rachel had just walked in with an iPod dock. Dave figured they'd come up with some dumb but well-meaning idea to help calm his mood while he was still in hospital. "Whalesong?" he guessed._

_Kurt barely missed a beat. "Told you we should have brought whalesong," he drawled sardonically to Rachel, who grinned in response._

_Dave was immediately caught on the backfoot. "No, I never said I __**wanted**__ it, I..." he retorted, before trying to figure out what they were up to. He came up short. "Well, if not that, then what?" he asked._

_"We know you're still beating yourself up over your past," noted Rachel. "We figure a song from us would get through to you."_

_Dave was on the defensive in a heartbeat. "No! You said earlier you wouldn't sing!" he recalled urgently._

_"We meant __**all**__ of us," smiled Kurt. "This is just us two."_

_As much as Dave was one of New Directions now, he still hadn't come around to the idea of singing out their problems or fixing their issues with music. "That's... that's a technicality!" he protested. "I'm calling foul!"_

_"Oh no!" exclaimed Kurt in deliberate exaggeration. "Rachel, we're... __**out**__, or we've __**double faulted**__ or __**slid into second**__ or whatever." He knew this would push Dave's buttons, and he was right: Dave couldn't suppress his urge to grimace at the abuse of terminology._

_"Oh!" exclaimed Rachel in mock surprise, and immediately played along. "Does that mean we end up on the... bench, or in the... sin bin, or... something?" she faux-guessed, once again prodding at Dave's nerves like a taser._

_Dave could stand it no longer. "You're doing sports terms deliberately wrong, and it's __**mean**__," he grumbled._

_"Well, you just tried to stop us singing to you," shrugged Rachel airily. "That's mean too."_

_An unexpected misfire, as Dave suddenly blanched at the accusation. "...I don't..." he gulped. "...I don't wanna be mean," he pleaded, his voice growing timid and fretful._

_Rachel was kicking herself before the words had even made it out. "Maybe that was... the wrong choice of, of words..." she stammered._

_Kurt would hear none of it. "Hey!" he rebuked swiftly. "No sliding back! Or into home, or... leftfield, or... something," he added, hoping to derail Dave's self-flagellation with a few more distracting sports term abuses. "C'mon, you're not mean!" he continued determinedly. "And if it takes a song to convince you, then so be it." He looked over to Rachel, who had already set up the dock and cued the iPod. "Rach, play it," he instructed, with a nod._

_The intro was unfamiliar to Dave, but the simple piano melody seemed soothing enough. Kurt led the vocals as the first verse began._

_**You've been watching dawn from the gutter  
Trading one bad move for another  
It's been a stormy night but it's almost through**_

_Dave gasped at the meaning. It sounded like such a good fit he could scarcely believe it. Rachel took the next few lines._

_**Friends you once loved don't know you  
Even your own eyes don't know you  
You think this whole world's trying to bury you**_

_The words could have just as easily come from Dave himself. It was exactly how he felt: Azimio was avoiding him, he could barely face himself in the mirror and so many people seemed determined to bring him down that he'd ended up... well, right where he was._

_Rachel and Kurt launched into the chorus together in harmony._

_**But it's not true  
So don't you say  
There's something in your core that can't be saved  
(It's not true)  
Cause it's not true  
And every atom of my heart is missing you**_

_They both looked him square in the eyes as they sang, keen to get the point across that this was how __**they**__ felt. As much as Dave may have hated himself, he had to know there were people around him that cared, and wanted to see him through his troubles._

_The two friends continued into the second verse._

_**Well it's OK to be scared when  
You're stuck behind a door that won't open  
The shadows in your dreams that are chasing you**_

_**Holy crap,**__ thought Dave, blindsided by the sentiment, utterly agape. __**That was me. That was me when I was in the closet.**__ It could have been written for him._

_**They're not true  
So don't you say  
There's something in your core that can't be saved  
(It's not true)  
Cause it's not true  
And every atom of my heart is missing you**_

_The repeated sentiment began to penetrate Dave's self-loathing and dark introspection, and a lump formed in his throat. The warmth of Rachel and Kurt's expressions, coupled with the sincerity of their vocals, was slowly stripping away the shell he'd built around himself._

_**The good will come through**_

_Even as they sang the words to him, he began to believe. He started to feel that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could get through it all with the help of his new glee club friends._

_The fact that they were the ones telling him so, using song, wasn't lost on him._

_**I wish that you could feel it  
The way you used to  
I wish you could believe it  
The way you used to**_

_Rachel's voice broke slightly on the last line, pushing Dave just over the edge. A tear rolled down his cheek as he began to surrender to his emotions._

_"Remember I told you you're loved?" recalled Kurt, his own voice also thick with emotion. "This is why. The way a song can move you to tears," he continued. "The fact that you're not afraid to show your heart," he smiled. Rachel nodded enthusiastically, her own eyes bright with unshed tears that certainly wouldn't hold back for long._

_"And that deep down," concluded Kurt, "you know you're not irredeemable."_

_For the countless time that sad weekend, tears were shed. These, however, were tears of hope and joy, because the three of them were beginning to realize together that no matter how badly Dave thought himself to be... it wasn't true._

_And, as the song the two friends had sung to him had attested, the good would come through._

* * *

A/N: Okay, you're all going to look up the Keane track from where the vocal and the story's title came from and discover that it was actually published, along with its parent album Strangeland, months after this scene would have taken place. So I had the choice of changing the song or saying "screw it, it's fanfic".

By now, of course, you know which I chose. :) If it bugs you that much, just, uh... pretend that the album was released a _year earlier_ in the Gleeverse so it _existed_ at this point in time and _blah blah blah_. ;) (I may need a new pot of PlotFix™ soon, at this rate...)

Frances, incidentally, wasn't intended to be an avatar for the Dave haters (mostly Klainers, I find, but _not all of 'em!_) - still, as a representation of them, she works pretty well.

And what the wayback hell is with me and flashbacks?! Ehhh, who cares if we get another cute scene from around chapters 7-9 of the original, eh? ;)

Thanks for reading, everyone. =) Remember, reviews == love, and don't forget to check out the epilogue too - from the look of it, that may have passed a lot of you by!

- Liam


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